A Labor of Love

I’m disappointed, Dad. Because so far, what I love has taken A LOT of work. Like, the tedious, painful, annoying kind of work.

Why didn’t you tell me it was going to feel like this?

That I was going to want to rip my hair out? Avoid it at all costs?
Why didn’t you tell me I was going to struggle for a decade (and years into the future) deciding if it was truly worth my focus?
Maybe it’s… me.

I know what you meant, Dad. You meant that once I found my passion, that my love would overcome the work. It wouldn’t feel like an obligation. It would feel like a purpose. It would be worth it, at every turn. The putrid, uncomfortable, confusing, twisting and bounding experiences would all be worth it.

When you “do what you love,” the work is never absent. It’s just, worth it.